In Shadow
by XIII-Jinx-XIII
Summary: When kids are disappearing in Lyndfield, Maine, the BAU is called in, but what they find may not be what they were expecting. Can the Winchesters and the FBI work together, or will they just get in each other's way? Casefic. WIP.
1. Prologue

What better time to start a Supernatural/Criminal Minds fic than Samhain!

Usually I try to finish stories before I post them, but you can probably tell that hasn't worked out so far. So this will be my first WIP. Don't run yet! I'll try to get chapters out at least once a week, but if i don't please keep in mind that I am trying to get through my fist year of Uni. On the other hand, if I am taking too long, feel free to send me a reminder (I've found that creative threats work wonders). And, as half of you won't even read this, on with the story!

Warnings: Rated T for language and mature themes. Nothing worse that what you see in the show, really.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Supernatural_ or _Criminal_ _Minds._

-X-

The sky had long grown dark by the time she left her friend's house, and Ellie knew she should have been home a while ago. She and Mila had been playing a new game though, and they'd lost track of time. Besides, home wasn't too far away, and she wasn't walking alone anyway.

Ellie brushed a stray blond hair from her face as she stole a glance at her companion. Mila's older brother Dante was one of the coolest boys she knew, much cooler than the boys in her class who were still convinced she had cooties. The older boy's straight dark hair was highlighted with bright red streaks that she thought looked awesome, and he had these bright green eyes that always seemed to be sparkling. He hadn't even argued when his mom had asked him to walk her home, just saved his game and grabbed his shoes. Her best friend was so lucky.

It had gotten so dark all of a sudden. When Ellie looked up she couldn't see any stars, and the moon must have been hiding behind a cloud because she could have sworn she'd seen it as they left the house. She felt a prickle of nervousness on her skin, as if she'd done something wrong and been caught. Ahead of her, Dante paused mid-step before grabbing her wrist and walking faster. Nearly tripping over her own feet as she tried to get her footing, Ellie glanced up and saw his gaze rapidly flicking between shadows.

"What's wrong?" she asked, "Dante?" That prickly feeling was getting worse.

"Quiet, Eliza," Why was he using her full name? Like her mom when she was angry? "Just keep walking, okay?"

"But-!" she tried to argue but was cut off as he broke into a run, forcing her to either struggle to keep up or be pulled off her feet.

The smack of their shoes on the pavement was the only sound. There were no birds, or dogs, or even crickets; the sounds of early spring were suddenly absent. The street lights flickered overhead and went out. The children's' steps were abruptly cut off and a terrified shriek pierced the air.

_"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown." _-H. P. Lovecraft

-X-

R&R


	2. Help is on the Way

**Just a few things before we start:**

**First off, a thank you to WRose, Guest, and LeeMarieJack for your reviews ^-^ Second, the location of Lyndefield, Maine is entirely fictional - as far as I know, anyway - and this is set in the third season of both shows, around that convenient break when the writers went on strike and we lost about a quarter of Dean's 'last year', so let's say 'round mid-March?.**

** Last but not least, any future ANs will be at the end of the chapter unless it's something really important. So, without further ado, I present you with chapter 1. (PS: anyone else want to go on a plane just to say "wheels up in..."?)**

**Warnings: **Rated **T** for language and mature themes typical of canon. Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine (So please tell me about them)

**Disclaimer: **I think we need to discuss the term _fan_fiction.

**-X-  
**

**Chapter 1**  
**Help is on the Way**

When Aaron Hotchner called his team into work early that morning they knew it had to be a time sensitive case. The seven of them, including Penelope Garcia, had filed into the briefing room as the sun was rising and Jennifer Jareau was fairly sure they wouldn't be functioning without the coffee they each carried. Everyone was exhausted from their last case, having returned only yesterday, but JJ knew that this couldn't wait and her team would understand.

"Eliza Miller, age ten, and Dante Green, fifteen, were last seen at roughly seven o'clock by Rosa Green when she sent her son to walk Eliza home," she began, pulling two pictures up onto the large screen. The first was of a small blonde girl in a soccer uniform, her hair in pigtails and her blue eyes shining happily; in the second a teenage boy was making a playful face at whoever stood behind the camera, unruly dark hair hanging in his green eyes. "They never made it to the Millers' house; that was two nights ago."

She paused to let this news sink in. Every one of them knew that their chances of finding these kids grew slimmer with every minute; it had almost been forty-eight hours already. She cleared her throat and continued, "The local sheriff's department believe their disappearance may be connected to two others in the past month. Thirteen year old Matthew Kelly," a photo of a sullen boy with ginger curls and storm-grey eyes appeared, "vanished from his home three weeks ago. No sign of struggle or forced entry."

Another picture, this one a beautiful girl with dark skin and hair, and deep brown eyes; her smile was warm, and her stance confident. "Danica Rogers is sixteen. She was on her way to meet her boyfriend for a date last week. He told the sheriff that she never reached the movie theatre, and no one has seen or heard from her. The files we have on the first two victims are incomplete, but the sheriff promises that we'll have access to the rest when we arrive."

"The victimology is all over the place," Derek Morgan commented, flipping through the local police's files, "And it says here that, other than Eliza and Dante, they didn't seem to know each other. How are they all connected?" Emily Prentiss nodded while Spencer Reid looked through the files again, as if he hadn't already read them through at least twice. Not even their resident genius could see a connection.

"That's just one of the things we need to find out," Hotch said; his brow creased in concern but his eyes were like steel, "We have no evidence, no bodies, and no witnesses but the sheriff is convinced that they're connected. If they are then our unsub is evolving. Rapidly."

"We don't have time to take chances," David Rossi summarized, looking to his old friend for confirmation. Hotch nodded.

"Garcia," he said and the technical analyst looked up in surprise, "You'll be coming with us. The entire town has been reporting issues with their power and phones; I don't want to risk losing contact."

"Right-o, sir. I'll grab anything I'll need then." As she prepared to leave, Hotch met each of his team's eyes.

"Wheels up in forty."

**-X-**

"Are you sure this is one of ours?" Sam asked his brother, looking over the newspaper article again. Dean had walked into their motel room with the usual takeout coffee and breakfast, dropped the paper in Sam's lap and announced a new hunt. Four kids had disappeared in a month in the next state over, but there was no sign of demon activity or haunting in the area. It sounded like something the police should handle, not the Winchesters.

"I told you, I called Bobby to look into it. He says that the same thing happened almost fifty years ago," Dean shot him an almost scolding look, "He agrees with me."

Sam rolled his eyes. Of course Bobby had agreed with Dean; Sam would have too at any other time. It was better to check it out and leave than to risk letting something run loose, especially when there were kids involved. But, Dean's deal came due in only a few months and Sam couldn't afford distractions. He needed to save his brother. Dean glanced at him and sighed, as if he could see Sam's thoughts written across his face.

"If it's not one of ours," he said reluctantly, "Then we'll leave, Sam. Promise."

Sam nodded and let the subject drop. He knew that his brother would be far too stubborn to let this go once he'd started the case; neither one of them would be able to leave while kids were still disappearing, but especially not Dean. Sam also knew that he wouldn't be able to blame him for breaking that particular promise. So, instead of arguing, he grabbed his duffel and headed for the door. By the time the sun had started to warm the chilled morning, the Impala was already on the highway.

Next stop, Lyndefield, Maine.

**-X-**

R&R


	3. Hymn for the Missing

**Warnings: **Rated **T** for language and themes typical of canon. Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned either of these shows, this probably wouldn't have been late.

**-X-**

**Chapter 2  
Hymn for the Missing**

The Millers lived in a quiet neighbourhood; all well kept lawns and gardens, small brick houses, and even literal white picket fences. The only disturbance was the occasional group of children playing in the street or a dog barking as the Impala passed. Sam couldn't even find it in himself to be surprised that this cheerful town was possibly being stalked by a supernatural monster. It seemed that no one could be allowed a normal life these days.

The roar of the engine must have alerted Carol Miller of their approach because they hardly had time to knock before she'd answered the door. She was a petit woman with blonde hair and a pretty face, though the dark bags under her eyes added years. She kept herself partly shielded by the door and watched them with wary eyes.

"Carol Miller?" Sam asked to be sure. When she nodded, he and Dean held up their badges, "I'm Agent Callahan and this is my partner, Agent Doyle. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your daughter's disappearance. May we come in?"

The woman hesitated and, for a moment, Sam was sure that she would refuse and shut the door in their faces. Finally, she nodded and stepped aside for them to enter the photo lined hallway. A rapid clicking sound met their ears moments before a small brown dog came barreling around the corner and skidded to a halt at their feet. The puppy sniffed each brother hopefully before his tail lowered in disappointment, evidently not finding the one he was looking for. Mrs. Miller watched the dog with sad eyes.

"He's done that to everyone who walks through that door," she explained, closing the door behind them. They followed her to the living room; a bright area with dark-wood and leather furniture taking up most of one side, and wide patio doors leading out to the yard on the other. Mrs. Miller excused herself to make some tea, returning with red-rimmed eyes that they politely ignored as they accepted the cups. She curled up on the couch across from the brothers, clutching the cup in her hands and twisting it nervously before finally taking a sip and clearing her throat.

"You - you said you had some questions?" she asked. Sam and Dean glanced at each other, silently agreeing that there was no point in drawing things out. The woman was already upset enough.

"Mrs. Miller," Dean began, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, "Did you notice anything strange before you're daughter's disappearance? Did she say anything, or do anything, that she normally wouldn't?"

"No. Nothing," she insisted, setting the cup down and playing with the hem of her shirt. The puppy came over and sat at her feet, just big enough to rest his head on her knee, "Ellie's always so happy. She... she knows not to talk to strangers, she loves soccer, and she's doing well in school. She's a good girl. I told the police that, of course. I know it's not very helpful..."

"Everything helps, in situations like this," Sam assured her gently, "Especially anything from the past few weeks. You're sure there's nothing at all?" He saw a flicker of doubt in the woman's eyes and knew she must be holding something back. "You can tell us."

"It's probably nothing, really, but... Ellie hasn't been sleeping well. She's been having nightmares. My husband thought I was being silly," she smiled nervously, "But I could have sworn there was something in her room one night; when she woke us up." The brothers shared a look and her smile twisted bitterly. "See? Silly."

"Do you remember what it looked like?" Dean asked, but Mrs. Miller shook her head.

"It was... it was just a shadow in the corner of my eye. When I turned on the light, there was nothing there."

"Did it ever show up again? Or did your daughter ever mention seeing it herself?"

"No. Never."

They fell silent for a moment before Sam asked, "Had you heard of the other missing kids before the other night? Is it possible that Ellie might have known any of them?"

"She's never mentioned them, but we had heard about those kids. That's why Dante was walking her home. It was only a few blocks," she brushed a few tears from her eyes and suppressed a sob, "This shouldn't have happened. They should have been _safe_."

"Thank you for your time ma'am," Sam said, still using that gentle tone he'd mastered years ago. He and Dean rose to their feet, "I know this must be hard, but if you think of anything just give us a call." He wrote down one of his cell phone numbers on a scrap of paper and handed it to her. As they turned to leave Mrs. Miller reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"You're going to find her, aren't you? You're going to bring my baby home?" Her eyes still shone with tears, but Sam could see a small spark of hope that she refused to let go of.

"We'll do everything we can, I promise." And God, he hoped he would be able to keep it. She gave him one last teary smile before rising to escort them out, but was startled by a sudden sound. The small dog stood perfectly still with fur standing on end, growling lowly at the patio doors.

"Boo, what's gotten into you?" Mrs. Miller scolded, but the dog ignored her. Dean looked out into the yard but couldn't see anything unusual in the late afternoon sun. Of course, he'd been doing his job far too long to trust his eyes all the time, and dogs always had a better sense for this than humans. With a sigh, Mrs. Miller made her way to the front door.

"Good boy, Boo," he whispered, leaning down to scratch him lightly behind the ears as he passed. A minute wag of his tail was the only sign that the dog had heard him, keeping up his defences until long after they were gone.

**-X-**

With no time to waste, the BAU had determined their immediate plans while in the air. Hotch, JJ and Garcia would go straight to the station to introduce themselves to Sheriff Eagan and make they had an area to work in. Meanwhile, Morgan and Reid and Rossi and Prentiss would go to interview the latest victims' families. Hopefully they would have a working profile before nightfall.

Morgan had driven through the small suburban neighborhood for nearly half an hour, carefully avoiding the kids who'd just gotten out of school, before he and Reid found the small blue house where Rosa Green lived with her two children. Before they could even knock, the door was opened by an eager ten year old girl. Her hopeful smile dimmed when she saw them though, likely expecting her brother.

"Are you Mila Green?" Morgan asked, crouching to be at almost eye-level with her. She nodded shyly, playing with the end of her long, dark braid. "My name is Derek Morgan, and this is my friend Doctor Spencer Reid. We're from the FBI, do you know what that is?" She nodded again. "Is your mother home? We just need to talk to her for a bit."

"Mama's in the kitchen," Mila told them, her voice little more than a whisper. She twisted her colourful skirt in her hand as she glanced around anxiously before her brown eyes settled on Morgan again. "I'll go get her."

Morgan blinked as the door was abruptly closed inches from his face. He rose back to his full height and looked at Reid.

"She's cautious," he said to the younger agent with a small chuckle. It wasn't everyday that a ten year old slammed a door on an FBI agent.

"If his younger sister is this careful, then how prepared must Dante Green have been?" Reid mused, so quiet that Morgan thought he may be talking to himself. He nodded anyway, amusement gone. They'd thought the UnSub to be taking at least most of the children opportunistically, but if they were careful or knew how to defend themselves then it could imply more planning.

The door was opened again, this time by an older Latina woman. Like her daughter she was cautious and asked to see their badges before letting them in and leading them to a small, but comfortable living room. The cheerfully crackling fire behind the grate did nothing to dispel the somber mood of the house. Mila sat down on one of the old couches with her mother and didn't take her eyes off the flames.

"Mrs. Green -" Morgan began but was cut off.

"It's Rosa, 'Mrs. Green' is my mother-in-law," she said, reciting it as if it were an old and well used joke. It probably was; it was just missing the young boy who laughed no matter how often he heard it.

"Rosa, our team is looking into the recent disappearances, including your son. We were just hoping you could answer a few questions that might help us in our investigation, if that's all right." He waited for her nod before he continued.

"You told the police that Dante was walking Eliza home; about what time was that?"

"It had to be nearly... seven? It was already dark. I meant to send them earlier, but I lost track of time."

"Did you know about the other children that have gone missing?"

"Yes, that is why I sent Dante with her. I didn't want her to go alone and Dante knows to stay safe. His father taught him that many years ago."

"Had your son been acting out lately? Or having trouble at school?"

"Not that I know of," she said, and then her eyes hardened, "My boy didn't do anything. He's a good, kind boy. He wanted to be a police officer, like his father was."

"What Agent Morgan is suggesting," Reid spoke up before Morgan had a chance, "Is that your son may have acted out due to a person or an event that could be related to his disappearance. At this point we have no reason to suspect him of being involved. Did Dante ever mention knowing any of the other victims? Or meeting someone new?"

Rosa shook her head, her harsh expression slowly changing to that dazed, slightly confused one that people often got from hearing Reid speak for the first time. They only asked a few more questions before thanking Rosa for her time and getting up to leave. Unfortunately they hadn't been told anything they didn't already know, but they hadn't really expected much. Rosa asked Mila to show them to the door while she finished making dinner and the quiet girl stood up with a considering expression. She only mumbled quietly to herself until they reached the door, finally speaking up as they stepped onto the porch.

"Mr. Reid? I, um..." She tugged on his sleeve until he crouched for her to whisper in his ear. Reid's eyes widened in confusion and she stepped away, shaking her head. "Never mind, it's stupid," she said, closing the door abruptly. Again. Morgan raised an eyebrow at his friend's still confused expression.

"What'd she say?" he asked.

"I think... she may have called me crazy."

Morgan sighed and raised a hand to his brow. He really hoped that Prentiss and Rossi were having better luck with the Miller's.

"Let's head to the station, Reid," he said, then looked back to see that Reid wasn't even paying attention, "Reid! You coming?"

"Hm?" The younger agent glanced up, startled. "Sorry?"

"Let's go."

"Right," he threw one more thoughtful glance at the house before following his friend to the car.

**-X-**

**"Hello~" the author coos to her ever patient and gracious readers as she hides guiltily behind her laptop. Yes, I am a bad author for making everyone wait this long, but I have an excuse! We're getting closer to exams and I had a lot of assignments due in the past week that demanded my attention. I have one more big essay and exams in about two weeks and that might mess things up again, but I'll get it out at some point, I swear. Again, I thank you for your understanding.**

**(PS: Looking for cover artwork, if anyone's interested. I'm trying to make it myself, but my free time at the moment is minimal. If interested, send me a PM)**

**As always, reviews are welcome and appreciated ^-^**


	4. The Longest Night

**Warnings: **Rated **T** for language and themes typical of canon. Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.

**Disclaimer: **Operation 'Acquire Rights to Both _Criminal Minds_ and _Supernatural_ and Then Make Millions (BWA-HAHA-HA!)' Status: FAILED. Oh well, I tried.

Allons-y!

**-X-**

**Chapter 3:  
Longest Night**

Things had not gone well at the Millers' home.

Prentiss and Rossi arrived at the Sheriff's Station not long after Morgan and Reid having been sent away by Evan Miller. When they'd first arrived at the house, the irate man had accused them of needlessly interrogating his wife before they could even go through the door. Mrs. Miller had explained to them, after calming him down, that two kind 'agents' had already come to speak with her. They'd gotten some information from her and asked her to call if they contacted her again, but the couple were too concerned afterwards to answer many questions regarding the case.

"Did Strauss mention sending anyone else?" Prentiss asked Hotch, after Sheriff Eagan left to warn his officers.

"I would have told you if she had."

Rossi made a thoughtful sound, "Their names do sound familiar, but I don't think I've met them. Callahan and Doyle."

"They're most likely using aliases," Reid pointed out, "Doyle is the surname of several fictional characters, including more than one in law enforcement. And Harry Callahan is the titular character in the Dirty Harry films. We could also consider that both names are Irish in origin, so it could be that - What?" He looked around, seeing the bemused looks on his teammates' faces. Rossi raised an eyebrow, mouthing 'Dirty Harry?' at him. Reid shrugged as he returned his attention to Hotch.

"So we're no further into our investigation and we have a new problem. Garcia, can you run the number they gave Carol Miller?"

"Already done, sir," she shook her head at her laptop screen, "Burner. Bought with cash. Hasn't been used."

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh.

"Let's keep focused on what we can do, but keep an eye out. We need to consider the possibility of multiple Unsubs and that they could be inserting themselves into the case. What do we know about the victims so far?"

"They're all between the ages of ten and sixteen," Prentiss noted, glancing at her files, "And many could be considered high risk. The sheriff has reports of Matthew Kelly running away at least three times; Danica Rogers is described as a 'free-spirit' and her grandparents were worried that she might resent being sent away to boarding school; Dante Green is a troublemaker in and out of school; lost his father, Daniel Green, about a year ago - according to the other officers, Dante saw his father as a hero. It wouldn't be unusual for him to act out."

"But Rosa said he hadn't been," Reid reminded, glancing at the lights when they flickered for a moment. Morgan shook his head.

"It wouldn't be unlikely for him to hide it from her." _Or for the other officers to try giving him a second chance before telling her. _Prentiss nodded.

"The only one not suspected of running away at first was Eliza Miller."

"And Matthew's taking karate and Dante learned self defence from his dad. They wouldn't have been the easiest targets."

Prentiss slid another file onto the table. "Danica was helping teach a women's self defence course at her school this year, too."

"So why _these_ four?" Rossi mused getting up and facing the white board set up on one side of the room. Four innocent faces gazed back at him, "It couldn't have been for convenience, not when he had to sneak into one boy's room and so many could fight back. But if it was premeditated, then what's the connection?"

Before any suggestions could be made every light in the station suddenly went out, leaving the room so dark that Hotch couldn't even see his hand when he held it in front of his face. Looking toward where he thought the door was, he didn't see any of the emergency lights that should have come on. He heard man's voice cursing in the other room, a crash, and then a louder curse as the Sheriff made his way to their room. As his eyes started to adjust to the darkness, Hotch could just barely make out the indistinct shadow when the man stepped into the doorway.

"Everyone all right in here?" he asked, still cursing under his breath and rubbing his knee.

Hotch nodded his head automatically before remembering that Eagan couldn't see him.

"Yes, I'm guessing this is one of those blackouts you mentioned?"

"Yeah. 'Bout half the town's out, far as I can tell."

"Do you need to call anyone?"

The Sheriff paused, most likely shaking his head. "No, no. It'll come back on its own in a minute. No phones anyway. It's strange, like something's messin' with the reception."

Hotch pulled out his phone to check and, sure enough, there was no signal at all. He heard the soft sounds of fabric moving and saw blue-tinted lights illuminate his team's faces as they did the same. Was it some kind of jammer? Then the phones suddenly went dark, as dead as the lights.

**-X-**

"What the hell?" Sam wondered as his laptop and all the lights in the room died.

"Still think the police can handle it on their own?" Dean called from across the room. He pulled the curtain to the side and looked out into the early twilight. Even the streetlights had gone out and the sun had just set, leaving only the faint light of a moon partially hidden by clouds.

If Sam were any less mature he would have stuck out his tongue at his brother's back. Instead he settled on a simple 'shut up' before letting his head hit the table with a soft thud. Winchester luck strikes again.

**-X-**

**My plan was to get this out a while ago so I'm sorry it took so long. On the upside, after exams this week I'll have an entire month of no class - just work, cleaning, reading and WRITING! (the last one is probably the only one anyone cares about of course...) This was also supposed to be longer, but I have to stop typing so I can study and that felt like a good point to stop. That means that The Longest Night Part 2 will be out by Saturday with another short chapter after before I go back to regular updates. Have a good night and to anyone else in my position: Good luck on your exams!**

**R&R**


	5. The Longest Night Part 2

**Warnings: **Rated **T** for language and themes typical of canon. Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.

**Disclaimer: **[Insert witty disclaimer here]

Allons-y!

**-X-**

**Chapter 4:**

**Longest Night (Part 2)**

_"I want you to check out the Kellys' home tonight, before it gets too late. We need to find something we can use."_

Morgan understood why they needed to hurry, and it really wasn't that late yet. The days were still short this early in spring. Hopefully the Kelly family would feel the same and forgive the time. While everyone back at the station would be working on the profile (or in Garcia's case, digging through the files and reports on her laptop for anything that could help the team), Prentiss and Morgan would be searching their only known crime scene for something that regular law enforcement might have missed. Matthew had been gone for weeks now and they had little hope of finding anything useful, but it was really all they had to go on.

The house they found was old and falling apart. The steps and porch creaked so badly that Morgan was almost sure they would give way under his weight. He could hear some sort of shorts game blaring from the TV and had to knock on the door three times before he got anyone's attention.

As he was about to knock a fourth time, the door was finally swung open by a stressed looking woman in her late twenties. Her tired brown eyes were framed by curly red hair - the same shade as Matthew - that had managed to escape her messy pony-tail.

"Sarah Kelly?" he asked, remembering her name from the file. She crossed her arms and gave them both a calculating look.

"You cops?" she asked.

"FBI, ma-am," They showed her their badges, but she hardly spared them a glance. "We're here about your son."

"Feds are called in for runaways, now?" she asked sceptically, raising an eyebrow. The agents glanced at each other before Prentiss spoke up.

"Mrs. Kelly, we have reason to believe that your son's disappearance could be linked to the recent kidnappings in the area. We were hoping to take a look at his room, see if we can find anything that might help our case."

"Got a warrant?"

"We can get one if we need it."

The two women stood firm, not breaking eye contact. Finally, Sarah rolled her eyes and stepped aside mumbling 'not worth it' under her breath. Almost the instant they stepped inside they heard and irate voice yell from the other room, voice competing easily with the cheering crowd at the game.

"Sarah! Who's at the door?"

"Couple ah cops!"

"I ain't here!"

"No one asked you! ... An' they can hear you, yah damn drunk!"

The narrow flight of steps creaked as loudly as the porch had as they climbed to the second floor, which itself wasn't much better. Sarah led them to the furthest of three doors, painted a bright blue that stood out easily in the din hall. Morgan suspected that Matthew may have painted it himself, what with the messy splatters on the frame and floor and that it looked like regular craft paint.

Sarah opened the door and Prentiss stepped inside, stopping with a curious look on her face when the floor creaked loudly. She shifted her weight slightly and the floor gave another protest.

"Mrs. Kelly?" she called after the woman before she could reach the stairs. Sarah glanced over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

"Can you hear this anywhere in the house? The creaking?"

"Yes, it's an old house," she replied, somewhat defensive, "Mine and Jacob's room is right underneath the boys'."

"Did you hear anything the night Matthew disappeared?"

The young woman - very young, Morgan now realized; she would have been a teenager when Matthew was born - swallowed roughly. Her face softened in the first sign of grief they'd seen.

"No," her voice was so quiet that they could hardly hear it, "I didn't hear the boys move until Aidan got up in the morning." Then her face hardened again as she locked it all away.

"Aidan's already asleep," she told them, gesturing to another door, "Try not to wake him up." And she was gone.

Looking around, Matthew's room was small, with pale blue walls and a worn brown carpet. His bed was pushed against one wall, a desk against the other, with a small window opposite the door. Turning on the small desk lamp did little to brighten up the room, but the light on the ceiling didn't work when they tried it. There were few signs of it being the room of a fourteen year old boy either, bare walls and few toys; only the still-rumpled Pokémon bedspread and a small stack of battered comics on the desk stood out.

It didn't look like it had been touched since the CSU had come in. It didn't take long before Prentiss, who'd started looking near the window and bed, interrupted his search through the desk's drawers.

"What do you think made these?" she asked, tracing her fingers lightly over four long scratches on the window frame. They were maybe half an inch thick and easily twice as deep.

"A knife? How did these get left out of the re-"

"What are you doing?"

The boy in the door way looked like a small version of Matthew, though softer - baby fat in his cheeks obvious despite his tiny frame. He rubbed his brown eyes tiredly, a small yawn escaping.

"Hello," Prentiss said, turning to face him, "You must be Aidan"

"What are you doing?" he asked again, his confused expression quickly becoming annoyed, "Why are you in Mattie's room?"

"We're trying to figure out what happened to your brother. Do you remember the people who came here right after he was gone? The ones working with the police?"

"The camera guy?"

"Yes. We're trying to find anything the 'camera guy' might have missed."

"He was stupid," the boy said bluntly and Morgan glanced at Prentiss.

"Oh?" He crouched down so he could look the boy in the eye, "Why do you say that, Aidan?"

"He didn't believe me. No one ever believes me."

"What didn't he believe?" When Aidan moved his hand away from his eye Morgan could see the faint shadow of a fading bruise. He carefully kept his reaction from showing on his face and startling the boy.

"I told him about the shadow." His voice held such a matter-of-fact tone that the agents were taken aback for a moment.

"The shadow? Whose shadow?"

"_The _shadow!" he insisted, a frustrated pout twisting his features. When it was clear that neither of them understood, he stomped his small foot and glared at them. "No one believes me! Not Mama or Father! Not even Mattie believed me! I saw him, I did!"

"Aidan!" Sarah appeared at the top of the stairs, "You're supposed to be in bed!"

"Mama! They were in Mattie's room! He hates it when I go in his room!"

"Shut that brat up!" Jacob Kelly yelled.

"I'm trying!"

Sarah scooped her son up and hushed him softly before turning to the agents.

"I think it's time for you to go. Now."

She then turned her back in a clear dismissal and took Aidan to his room, leaving them to find their own way out.

**-X-**

** Did I say Saturday? Oops. I may have underestimated my after-finals exhaustion when I predicted that, seeing as I almost feel asleep as I tried to type this up after working on Saturday til 11pm. And then worked late on Sunday too... but, better late than never, yeah?**

**Thanks to BranchSuper, LeeMarieJack and silverforest11 for your reviews and to everyone else who read and/or reviewed the last few chapters. Thank you for being patient with me ^-^**

**As always, reviews and criticism are very welcome.**


	6. Come Little Children

**Warnings: **Rated **T** for language and themes typical of canon. Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.

**Disclaimer: **Neither _Supernatural_ nor _Criminal Minds_ belong to me. _Come Little Children _is a poem written by... well, depends who you ask. Edgar Allan Poe or Brock Walsh I think. Version used taken from song performed by katethegreat19.

Allons-y!

**-X-**

**Chapter 5:**

**Come Little Children**

_**Come little children, I'll take thee away  
into a land of Enchantment.  
Come little children, the time's come to play  
here in my garden of Shadows.**_

_**Follow sweet children, I'll show thee the way  
through all the pain and the Sorrows.  
Weep not poor children, for life is this way  
Murdering beauty and Passions.**_

_ Come away, come away. Won't you come away with me? No, no. Not this one. This window reeks of adults. Blind, Stupid humans made fools by Age._

_ This is better. There is Age here, but they Believe! Oh, but it Burns! No good, No good!_

_ There are more scents, more windows, more Fears, but none of them are right. None of them! Oh, but the sound of a child's mind is singing nearby. There it is, there it is!_

_ You reek of fear and I can take that away._

"But I can't, big sister! I can't sleep if I'm scared!"_ the little one cries. She fears the Dark. She fears what it hides. Sweet, innocent Fear._

"Just go to sleep. Monsters don't exist!" _No? Blind, Stupid little girl-child. How can you not Believe? How dare you? Believe in me! Fear me! Fear the Darkness and Shadows and Monsters!_

_ Come away, little girl-child. Let's play a game. _

_**Hush now dear children, it must be this way  
to weary of life and Deceptions,  
Rest now my children, for soon we'll away  
into the calm and the Quiet.**_

_**Come little children, I'll take thee away  
into a land of Enchantment,  
Come little children, the time's come to play  
here in my garden of Shadows.**_

**-X-**

** Excuse the lateness, I`m in the middle of a **_**Doctor Who**_** binge. **

** As always, reviews and criticism are welcome. **


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